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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223310">Petrichor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/CaspianTheGeek'>CaspianTheGeek (DemonicGeek)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Forehead Kisses, Hand Kisses, I just needed something gentle and I'm sharing it, Kisses, M/M, More pine than a pine tree, No beta we fall like Crowley, Nonbinary/Nonbinary, Other, THIS IS RIDICULOUSLY SOFT, ace romance, nonbinary author, soft angst, they're in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:29:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/CaspianTheGeek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aziraphale stared out the window as he watched the first few droplets hit the ground. He kept staring as it turned into a patter and waited for the small to hit him through the open window. As the smell rolled over him, he let his eyes slide shut. Petrichor.</p><p>A half smile crossed his lips and suddenly he saw himself shielding a demon with his wing on a wall in Eden."</p><p>A short series of vignettes in the rain. Mostly soft, with a touch of angst.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Petrichor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was listening to this while writing, in case you'd like some background storms: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVKEM4K8J8A</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale stared out the window as he watched the first few droplets hit the ground. He kept staring as it turned into a patter and waited for the smell to hit him through the open window. As the smell rolled over him, he let his eyes slide shut. Petrichor.</p><p> </p><p>A half smile crossed his lips and suddenly he saw himself shielding a demon with his wing on a wall in Eden.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was looking up at the wing, half a smile on his face. They’d been so new then, so unsure. Crowley hadn’t stuttered, but the words had been a bit slow. “Thank you. Your wings are beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>No one had told Aziraphale any part of him was beautiful before. Then again, no one had ever bothered to reassure him he’d done the right thing. He stuttered out a flustered thank you and hoped that the demon didn’t see the flush rising in his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smelled the petrichor in the air for the first time, just as he felt Crowley’s body not far from his own. Tucked against his left side, as if he belonged. He did fit under his wing just so.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think you’ll be down here long?” Aziraphale could hear the suppressed curiosity in the demon’s voice. Why would anyone be worried about something like that, let alone a demon?</p><p> </p><p>“Long enough. They didn’t really clarify what I was supposed to do. Just told me to stay down here and watch over the humans. I suppose I’ll keep doing that. You?”</p><p> </p><p>“They didn’t tell me how long I was supposed to make trouble for. Couldn’t do any harm to keep at it a bit longer, I suppose.”</p><p> </p><p>They fell into silence, both watching Adam and Eve make their way through the desert, which was starting to slowly bloom with the rainfall. Aziraphale knew he wasn’t causing that particular miracle, and assumed it must be coming from another source.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, I, er, appreciate the help but you’re getting drenched. I know a place to keep dry. Could even start a small fire and warm up.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale became aware of his hair sticking to his forehead, his clothes starting to stick to his body heavy with water. It was a bit uncomfortable. “Lead the way.”</p><p> </p><p>He watched the demon’s face light again with that same smile and he turned and led back down into Eden and a small cave there. Aziraphale noticed a small pile of fruit at the cave entrance, but the demon was beckoning him inwards.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t sure how long Crowley had been residing here, but there was a makeshift seat in the wall cushioned with leaves where he gestured for Aziraphale to sit. Then with a snap of his fingers a small fire jumped into existence under a natural chimney.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had smiled at him. “Get warm and dry, angel.”</p><p> </p><p>And for the first time Aziraphale had felt taken care of. It wasn’t that his Heavenly siblings didn’t care for him, they just expected him to be self sufficient as he should be. The smell of rain started to mix with the smell of fire.</p><p> </p><p>Later it was a smell he would always associate with Crowley. The fresh earth mixed with the smell of smoke. The smell of Crowley, part the earth they both loved and part fire and utterly, inexorably enticing.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was coming back, some of the fruit from the entrance in his hand. His face was cautious now, but he held out the first piece. “Not anything dangerous for angels, really. Just normal fruit. But have you tried it yet?”</p><p> </p><p>They sat, trying the various fruits and discussing them as the rain continued outside. Aziraphale dried quickly, but the warmth of the fire and friendship Crowley was extending were far too much to walk away from quite yet.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually the rain stopped. The smell faded.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale knew he needed to leave. As he said goodbye, Crowley was looking at him hopefully. “I’ll see you again, sometime?”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope so.” He smiled back at Crowley, then turned to leave.</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p>
  <b>3004 BC </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Another scene flashed into his mind, this one years later. He had been staring at Crowley when the first of the rain started in earnest that would become the great flood of Noah.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was looking at him and all of a sudden pain shot across his face. “Angel, this is wrong. You know this is wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not my decision.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had turned from him then. Petrichor without the smoke. Heartbreak. He’d wanted to chase after him, he couldn’t. He watched his friend walk away and wondered that the friend retreating could break his heart so.</p><p> </p><p>He found Crowley not a day later making a raft. He couldn’t smell the petrichor any longer, but the smell of fire near burned him when Crowley looked up, willing to fight him were he to try to stop him. Aziraphale merely picked up the next piece of wood and brought it over. The two worked together on the raft in silence. Aziraphale ignored the people Crowley managed to sneak aboard.</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p>
  <b>41 AD</b>
</p><p> </p><p>They were in Rome and leaving Petronius’s. The oysters had been as delicious as promised and Aziraphale was smiling at his companion. Crowley’s frustration at the temptation gone right, or wrong depending on perspective, had faded. </p><p> </p><p>He felt the first rain drop. He watched Crowley look up and then pull off his glasses. The golden eyes turned to his and all Aziraphale could think was how much he had missed seeing them behind the glasses this evening and how beautiful they were.</p><p> </p><p>The rain started, but the two were simply standing there staring at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale.” Crowley’s voice was soft. “When did we become friends?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale paused. From an outsider he would always insist they weren’t friends. They didn’t know each other. They had never met before. It was what he needed to do to keep Crowley safe, to keep Hell from finding out. But right now he thought maybe Crowley needed something more.</p><p> </p><p>He watched Crowley’s curls begin to slowly unravel in the rain. “I think, perhaps since that cave in Eden, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled at him. It was the sort of smile Aziraphale loved best. That smile that just for an instant wasn’t worried about Heaven or Hell but simply enjoying his company. Aziraphale could stare at the smile forever.</p><p> </p><p>“You two just going to stand there getting soaked?”</p><p> </p><p>The moment was shattered. But the smell was still there. Petrichor and smoke. And Crowley was looking at him and saying “I’ve got some new wine at my place, want to come try it?”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p>
  <b>1418</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was a quiet night. Crowley had invited Aziraphale to the cottage he was living in now and they had spent their night like they’d spent so many others. They were both sitting there in a companionably silence when the first bit of lightning lit the sky.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, the humans come up with all sorts of crazy excuses for that.” Crowley murmured, looking at the wine in his cup.</p><p> </p><p>“The lightning?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Think it’s God punishing someone. Angels falling. All sorts of things.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s heart ached at the words angels falling. He wanted to look at Crowley, but he didn’t dare. As the rain started and a familiar smell filled the room, Crowley continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t know why I fell. Sure don’t think they know. But I worry sometimes. Do angels still fall?”</p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t heard of any.” And Aziraphale felt his stomach clench. He wasn’t afraid of falling. Not truly. The Almighty knew where his priorities lie. But why would Crowley be concerned about it?</p><p> </p><p>The demon next to him was silent as they watched the storm. Aziraphale dared to sneak a glance at him, but could only think the storm outside mirrored that in Crowley’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The demon carefully held his hand out towards Aziraphale. An offering. For what Aziraphale wasn’t quite certain. But he was certain he couldn’t say no. He took Crowley’s hand as they continued to watch the storm.</p><p> </p><p>It was soft and a little cool. He wanted to kiss it. He didn’t dare.</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>1812</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what that smell is, angel?”</p><p> </p><p>“The smell just before the rain?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley nodded from beneath the small tree they’d taken shelter at. “Petrichor. The smell of rain after it’s been dry awhile.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s always reminded me of you. The smell of petrichor. Of rain. Of fire.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked at him in surprise and Aziraphale wished his eyes weren’t hidden behind glasses. “Me?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled. “Do you remember our first meeting, in Eden?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled slowly. “I remember you not quite knowing how to eat a plum.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was juicy!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and then reached to take Crowley’s hand, bringing it softly to his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley froze. Well, that stopped the laughter at least.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel?” Aziraphale didn’t need Crowley’s glasses off to understand his tone.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale lowered Crowley’s hand. “I quite like the smell of petrichor you know.” He smiled at Crowley. “Would you like to come back to the shop for a bit?”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Course.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p>
  <b>The Bandstand</b>
</p><p> </p><p>There is no our side. Those words repeated over and over in Aziraphale’s head. He hated that he had said them, he knew he had to say them, they were the right thing to say. He kept lying to himself. He knew he was lying.</p><p> </p><p>The rain started when he was halfway back to the shop. The smell of petrichor filled the air. There was no fire.</p><p> </p><p>He thought of Eden. He thought of a thousand rainy nights. His heart broke. He had never felt so utterly wrong in six thousand years.</p><p> </p><p>He let the rain soak him through. It hid his tears.</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>The Night of the Apocalypse</b>
</p><p> </p><p>They stepped out of the bus together in front of Crowley’s flat. Aziraphale looked up. “I think it’s going to rain.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled. “Yes, I can smell it.” He hadn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand since they sat down on the bus. Aziraphale wasn’t sure he ever would again. He didn’t mind.</p><p> </p><p>He turned towards Aziraphale and Aziraphale stared at him. He was still disheveled and covered in soot. His eyes had just a touch of desperation to them and fear. Aziraphale knew his eyes didn’t show any fear. He had worked out Agnes’s prophecy on the way back, he just needed to explain it.</p><p> </p><p>He stared at Crowley and wondered if he dared. The first drop of rain hit the back of his hand. He resisted the urge to pull his wings from the ethereal plane and shield Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I-”</p><p> </p><p>And then Crowley was moving closer, tilting his head towards Aziraphale’s. He paused for just a moment, giving the angel time to say no. Aziraphale couldn’t take waiting a moment longer, he leaned forward slightly bringing their lips together.</p><p> </p><p>The rain began to fall.</p><p> </p><p>Neither noticed.</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale opened his eyes again to stare out the window. The smell of petrichor. And then the smell of smoke mixed with it enveloped him as arms wrapped around him from behind.</p><p> </p><p>“S’raining, angel. You know what that means.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale turned away from the view out the cottage window. “What’s that my dear?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley nuzzled his cheek. “I get all the kisses I want, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wiley serpent, stealing kisses from an angel.” Aziraphale kissed his forehead as if to emphasize his point.</p><p> </p><p>“S’not stealing if they’re given, you know.” Crowley pulled back slowly. “Want to go outside?”</p><p> </p><p>“In the rain?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphaled grinned. “Are you just looking for an angel to shield you with their wing? I’ve no idea where you’d find one around here.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley brought his forehead to Aziraphale’s. “Perhaps I’m just trying to remember some very good memories I have with an old friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale let Crowley lead him out the door of the cottage and was surprised when the demon’s wings came out, covering them both.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley leaned in and kissed him softly. It smelled of petrichor and smoke.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been a rough week. Just hoping this helps make someone smile today &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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